


Dejection

by kanyon01



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Abuse, Dark, Drama, Drama & Romance, Flirting, Hiding Medical Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mental Breakdown, References to Depression, Self-Harm, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, im sorry i wrote this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 20:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14961908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanyon01/pseuds/kanyon01
Summary: Marik has overworked himself since the day of the accident. He forces himself to do painful things, just to distract himself. All the while he deals with his abusive father and a medical issue. The Egyptian pushes everyone away. But what will happen when he gets too close to someone? Will his calm façade shatter? Discontinued and abandoned work.





	Dejection

**Author's Note:**

> This work is completely abandoned! However, I want to post it just in case anybody would like to read it. I think the 10k I have is decent, I've just lost the inspiration to continue this particular work. I know it's very dark! If this is not the type of writing you enjoy, please leave and don't read. Thank you!

Marik sighed as his alarm blared in the distance. He really didn't want to get up and face another day of the same old thing, but he had to push himself. So after a few minutes of stalling Marik stood up, walked to the other side of his room, and shut off his alarm. Pretty smart idea, huh? He knew he would never get up if he could reach the noisemaker from his bedside. He quickly got dressed, barely examining the garments he chose, and he applied his eyeliner. Though he was starting to think he should stop wearing it. He had already decided jewelry wasn't needed. Marik had always showered at night. That way, there was no rush in the morning. He looked at the clock and groaned.

He had another 12 minutes to burn, but he just didn't feel like eating. So with that he settled on doing some homework he never got to the night before. Once that was finished, he grabbed his bag and forced his way out the front door. The walk to school was the same as always. Marik's mind was torturously numb in the mornings.

In a matter of minutes he'd made it to Domino High. He walked through the doors and soon found his group of ecstatic friends. They always forced him into a conversation, and so he would fake a smile for them. After that class started and day became bleary. His thoughts consisted of barely anything. That was until Bakura found his way to the Egyptian. That stupid whitette always threw Marik off for some reason.

"This seat taken?" Bakura asked, while smirking.

"Of course not." Marik replied, tone formal. (They had this game they played where they pretended to be strangers sometimes) They both burst out laughing, smiles growing on each of their faces.

"So didja do your homework, goody two shoes?" Bakura mocked.

Marik frowned. He never did know why his friend referred to him as "goody two shoes." The Egyptian barely did his homework, and when he did it was incorrect. Although in retrospect, Bakura never did homework and was always out stealing. So in comparison, maybe Marik was the good one.

Somehow that didn't make sense in his mind. Bakura began waving a hand in front of Marik.

"Are you in there or did you die in the past 10 seconds?" The white haired teen blurted.

The blonde couldn't help but smile, he loved the way Bakura always bugged him. They continued laughing and joking around for the rest of the period.

Then the bell rang and the guilt set in.

Marik always got really mad at himself after he'd thought over how he'd acted. He was getting way to close to Bakura, and that wasn't his plan. His plan was to have absolutely no emotional attachment to anybody. Why waste the time loving someone else when you know nobody could ever love you? For in order to have somebody love you, you must first love yourself.

Marik sighed and gently massaged his forehead. He beat himself up for that whole class period, and half of the next. Then finally his thoughts simplified. He could relax knowing that he wouldn't see his white-haired friend for the rest of the day. I mean c'mon what were the chances of Bakura even liking Marik? They only had 1 class together, and they weren't even in the same group of friends. Frankly, the blonde was surprised Bakura even still talked to him at all. In the middle of his thoughts, Marik's right ear started acting weird.

'Not again.' He thought, as he covered the ear with his hand, knowing full well it wouldn't make a difference. A high pitched screeching noise had started and the real noise blurred in comparison. He began to feel his heart throbbing in the affected ear. Though in a matter of seconds, it all faded, leaving behind a mere earache. Marik sighed as he knew that in a few minutes a migraine would set in. He dug through his bag and found a bottle of pills. He knew he wasn't suppose to have them in school, but he needed them. As quietly as he could, he twisted open the lid and shook an ibuprofen into his palm. Then he closed the lid, put the bottle back into his back, and dug around for his water bottle. Once he found it, he put the tablet onto his tongue and swished it back with water. He swallowed and sighed, already feeling the beginnings of his migraine setting in. He could only hope the medicine would work.

After school ended Marik walked slowly home, almost dragging himself. He really didn't want to go back there either, and he could only hope that his dear father wasn't home. Once he arrived, he gingerly unlocked the front door. Stepping inside, he quickly scanned the living room and kitchen. He saw nothing and visibly relaxed. When he was absolutely positive he was home alone, he closed the door behind him. The little click reassured him. He then turned and walked towards his room. Unfortunately his dad had been home during the day. That was made obvious by the little note left on Marik's dresser.

"Clean the kitchen Cinderella." Was all it said.

Marik growled to himself. If only he wasn't the last one left for father to toy with. If only Ishizu hadn't died...No!

Marik wasn't allowed to have thoughts like this. If he did then that would make him no better than the person he was before. And he wanted to change, so he had better stay this way. Marik believed he was strong. He pushed himself harder than ever before because he despised the weak. The weak hearted, the weak minded, the people who actually let others in. He despised them all. That was why he forced himself to eat only small portions (if at all) no matter how much pain it brought him. That was why he forced himself to work extra hard in gym class, no matter how hard it could be. And he stayed up as late as he could every single night. He did this because when he was sleep deprived, a lot less sorrow found it's way into his heart.

Marik truly believed he was strong.

The sad fact is that the Egyptian is sorely mistaken. For buried deep inside him, a sweet, innocent person still lives on.

\--------

Marik's ear had been getting worse as the days passed by. He sometimes had screeching episodes for up to 5 minutes. They always seemed to happen at the worst of times, like when he was in the middle of a conversation. Just now he had been talking to Bakura about something pointless, and his ear started to screech greatly. He tried to pretend like nothing was wrong, but it was as if Bakura could see right through him.

"And then we went to- hey Marik are you ok? You look like you're in pain." The white haired teen interrogated. Marik faked a smile and resisted the urge to cover his left ear. (The episodes happened in a different ear each time)

"Yep I'm ok." The Egyptian forced out.

"No, I don't think so. You should go to the nurse." The Brit replied. Then he gently applied his palm to Marik's forehead. He pushed the bangs back lovingly and felt for a fever. He quickly realized what he was doing though, and corrected himself.

"I mean not that I care, you just can't seem to hold up your friggin side of the conversation, and that's annoying." Bakura forced out, quite bitterly. Marik frowned, surprised that the words hurt him. Unconsciously, The Egyptian's hand moved to cover his ear, as the screeching was still raging on. The white-haired teen didn't miss either gesture.

"Alright that's enough." He stated, then he promptly stood up and pulled Marik along with him. The whole class turned their heads when they heard the chairs squeak.  
The teacher cleared his throat.

"Um where are you two planning on going?" He asked them.

"To the nurse, cause this one seems to be having issues." Bakura stated while pointing at Marik. The instant this was said, the Egyptian's cheeks flared up. Now he was purely pissed. Who was this guy, just embarrassing him in front of the whole classroom like that? As soon as they were in the hallway and a safe distance from the classroom, Marik turned and punched his friend smack in the nose.

"What the hell Marik!" The whitette screamed. Blood was gushing everywhere, making a mess.

"You fucking embarrassed me in front of the whole classroom! You're such a dick!" The Egyptian yelled back.

"I'm the dick?" The other retorted. In a matter of minutes their argument had escalated, and Bakura had run off to the bathroom to stop the bleeding. Marik sighed. The screeching had finally stopped. He absentmindedly rubbed his left ear. Then he'd decided that was enough. He was going to skip school, even though he knew they would call his dad... It was worth it to Marik. He needed a break, if only for a few hours. He fled the building and made his way to a nice park in one of the richer neighborhoods. He relaxed for about a half an hour before he had a realization.

Bakura would probably never talk to him again.

Part of Marik loved this thought, the idea of really reaching his goal: no emotional attachment period.

But another part of Marik screamed out in pure agony, and the Egyptian couldn't seem to figure out why that was.

After pondering his predicament for nearly an hour, Marik decided to just leave It be. He would see how things would be between them tomorrow.  
The blonde didn't even notice when he fell asleep.

He woke up to his cell phone ringing wildly from his bag. Still drowsy Marik fumbled with the buttons, but eventually got the call to connect.

"Hello?' He didn't check the caller ID first.

"Get. Your. Ass. Home. Now."

Marik's stomach dropped. He was so dead. With that he jumped up and began the sprint for home. Maybe if he got there on time, his dad would take it easy on the bruising. As always, the Egyptian's hopes were dashed. The instant he stepped in the door, he was pushed down violently. His back had crunched a bit under the pressure.

"I GET A CALL FROM YOUR SCHOOL SAYING YOU DITCHED. IS THIS SOME KIND OF BULL SHIT?" His drunken father yelled, words slurring together. Marik didn't respond, it usually made things worse.

"ANSWERME!" His dad screeched.

"N-NO, I DITCHED!" The Egyptian yelled back. The foot on his back slowly moved towards his neck. Marik bit back tears, this was it. His father slowly applied pressure to his neck, more and more until Marik surely thought it would snap.

"You want to leave school so badly, you can stay home with me tomorrow. Just the two of us." His father said, his voice scarily calm.

Then he moved his foot from Marik's neck and scattered kicks all along the teen's body. He then forcefully shoved the teen's nose into the carpet. Marik cried out as he heard a sickening crack. On top of that, Marik's ear was doing something entirely different from normal. He couldn't hear at all out of his right side. The blonde was internally panicking, and he was so distracted with himself that he didn't hear his father yell something. That earned him another kick to the ribs.

"I SAID ANSWER ME BOY!" His father yelled. Marik gulped. "I-I didn't hear the question." He mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"I SAID I DIDN'T HEAR YOUR QUESTION!" The blonde screeched. Rage bubbled up in his father's eyes. He pulled Marik up by his shirt and slammed him hard against the steel front door. Then he stepped on Marik's wrist until he the teen cried out.

"NEXT TIME LISTEN TO ME!" He commanded. And with that he went into the kitchen, grabbed a whole six pack, then staggered off to his bedroom.

As soon as Marik's father was out of sight, he forced himself to a standing position. He held back his reaction to the pain until he made it to his own room. That was when he collapsed down onto his bed and let the tears fall. Everything was aching or bleeding. He was pretty sure he had a cracked rib, a sprained wrist, and a broken nose.

He tried to gather himself but it didn't work out well. Instead he crept into the hall bathroom, as to not make noise and disturb his father. He had brought one of his shirts with him to use as a rag to clean up blood. Once he could look in the mirror he also noticed some bruises by his eye that he didn't even feel. That was weird. The tears slowed as Marik's mind clouded with worry. He lifted his fingers and gently brushed a bruise near his right eye. That was odd. He couldn't feel it even with his fingers. Then he slowly brought his fingers back to his actual ear. He couldn't feel that either. He quickly realized he was still deaf in his right ear. The blows to the head obviously hadn't helped. Marik noticed something else.

A tiny drop of blood had just fallen from the same ear.

He began to panic again. Tears started to fall more frequently as Marik worried he would never hear from that ear again. What was the matter with him?  
He gingerly took to cleaning the blood off of his nose in order to distract himself. That helped get his mind off things. Marik quickly learned that his nose was broken though. So he scampered off to his room to look for duct tape. He rummaged through his closet until he found it.

Then he made his way back to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. He drew in a deep breath and gripped the bone in his nose. He slowly started seizing it to the middle where it belonged. More tears fall, and it was ever-so-painful, to the point of screaming even. But Marik did it successfully. After it was back in place, he managed to rip off a piece of duct tape using only his right hand. Then he took the tape and placed it over the bridge of his nose. It hurt so bad.

But the more Marik let himself cry, the more he despised himself. Pain was merely a reaction from the brain. He was letting it get the best of him. He was being ever so weak. But Marik's tear kept falling, because he no longer had control over them. He examined himself again just to make sure he wasn't missing anything important. Oh right, his ear was still bleeding ever so slightly. He searched the bathroom drawer and quickly found a gauze ball. Then he stuffed it into his right ear. He was slowly getting used to the numbness that spread from his ear to his eye. At least he couldn't feel any bruises that were there. And his hair covered the ear so nobody would be able to question him.

Thinking twice, Marik took the whole box of gauze balls and set them on the bathroom counter. He would need those later. Once last look in the mirror and he realized he couldn't do anything more to help himself. Bruises had to heal on their own. He would have to cover up any visible ones with makeup the next time he went to school. He sighed, grabbed the box with the gauze, and crept back to his room. He put the box in his dresser drawer, so his father wouldn't see it. Then he collapsed onto his bed once again. His eyes began to close on their own accord, and soon he was drifting off to sleep.

Marik awoke to the sound of glass breaking. He glanced over at his clock and saw that it was only 5:13am.

He pushed himself out of bed, and turned his alarm off early, just in case it decided to go off when he wasn't in the room. The Egyptian groaned as all of his aches and pains made themselves known again. He felt his ear, but was disappointed to find its state hadn't altered. Then he remembered why he'd gotten up. His dad must've broken something.

He quietly left his room and wandered into the kitchen. He could see his father standing in the room, staring blankly at a shattered bottle on the ground. Then suddenly, just as Marik was going to go clean that up after the moron, something odd happened. His father threw a fit. Over a mere beer bottle. There was now glass and liquor scattered everywhere. Marik winced at the thought that he would have to clean it up later. But he decided to leave the man to his tantrum. The Egyptian tiptoed back to his room. He looked around a bit. Then he remembered something.

His father might try to keep him home from school.

That thought alone didn't really bother Marik. The thought that did though, was that he would be home alone with his dad. All day long.

And they would be by themselves completely.

Neighbors would be at work or school. There would be no chance of them calling cops to report noise. (That had happened a few times before) Marik would be at complete and utter mercy. He wouldn't have that. Quickly, he grabbed his bag and stuffed the gauze, some extra clothes, and his homework in. After that, he put on his shoes, and grabbed a thick jacket. Then he crawled ever so carefully out of his bedroom window.

He let out a sigh of relief after he was miles from his household. Once he had the opportunity, he sat on a park bench in order to catch his breath. He viciously ripped the duct tape off of his nose, as it was starting to make the skin itch. An hour or so later, it was time to head to school. And so he did. He actually made it to Domino High pretty fast.

He forgot that he hadn't a chance to cover up his bruises before he left. The instant he ran up to his group (desperate for a break from the drama), he remembered. All of his friends were looking at him with purely stunned expressions, their jaws dropped.

"W-what happened to you?" Ryou stuttered. Marik's fingers absentmindedly brushed over one of his bruises.

"I...got mugged." He responded. Marik was worried it wouldn't be a buy-able excuse, but all of his friends suddenly seemed to understand. They all made 'O' shapes with their mouths, or nodded in agreement.

"That makes sense." Yugi concluded.

"But are you ok?" Ryou asked. Marik stifled a laugh at that question. Was he ok? Was he ever ok?

"Yeah I'm fine, the bruises barely hurt, they'll be gone in a week." Marik spoke before choosing to. It had become automatic for him to lie to his friends, and plaster that smile on his face. They never even doubted him. While his friends chattered on, the Egyptian was busy adjusting to only being able to hear from one side. It was awkward for him. He found himself tilting his left ear towards the group, and occasionally getting weird looks from them in response.

When they asked what he was doing he smiled and said "Just fidgeting." Somewhere in the middle of the conversation, and his 'fidgeting', he caught the eye of Bakura. He hadn't noticed before, but the whitette had been staring him down since he walked into the building. Marik blushed unintentionally. He internally slapped himself when Bakura smirked at him. It was like nothing happened, except that there was an unusual looking emotion in the crimson eyes of his friend.

That was why Marik found himself wandering away from his group. He didn't even give them an explanation, especially because he couldn't hear them questioning him. As soon as he was face to face with Bakura, he frowned. What was wrong with him? He just blushed, smiled, and intentionally walked towards somebody to start a conversation. That was odd for him. Bakura said something, but it sounded muffled so Marik started angling his head again.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing Marik?" The whitette asked, trying and failing to hold back laughter.

"Uhh nothing..so you're not mad at me?" The Egyptian replied. Bakura briefly frowned in confusion.

"Why would I be mad? It was a measly punch and I am the thief king." He responded. Marik laughed a bit.

"You keep believing that." He said. Bakura's expression soon became serious, though.

"What happened to you?" He asked. Marik froze for a moment trying to figure out what he meant.

"Why are you all beaten up?" Bakura clarified.

"Ohhh that." Marik voiced his understanding. Then he realized this was a problem. He didn't actually want to lie to his only friend.

"I'm waiting." Bakura groaned.

"Uhhhhhh...I got beaten up." Marik smiled because technically he wasn't lying..as long as Bakura didn't-

"By who?" The whitette answered the Egyptian's inner thoughts.

"Dammit..um a person." Marik responded and laughed a bit. Bakura snapped. He forcefully grabbed Marik's shoulders and stared him dead in the eyes.

"Who. Did. This. To. You." He asked, in his most threatening tone of voice. Marik would have feared the teen before him, except that he saw worry buried deep in his companions eyes.

"Awhhh." He said aloud before thinking.

"You're worried about me." The Egyptian concluded. Bakura's jaw dropped as he figured out what Marik had meant. A blush found it's way to his face as well.

"N-no." He stuttered. Marik's smile only grew. It was so damn hard to avoid someone who was this caring towards you.

"That's not the point, just who did it?" Bakura asked, trying to change the subject. Marik decided to let that happen.

"I got mugged." He lied straight through his teeth, feeling an instant pang of guilt.

"Oh." Bakura responded.

"Yep." Marik said, smiling. What was it with always wanting to smile around Bakura?

"Alright then, can't beat that guy up can I." The whitette finished. Marik released a small gasp, surprised.

"You wanted to beat him up for me?" He asked. Bakura seemed to ponder this question before speaking.

"Yeah, because I'm a possessive little fucker." The Brit settled on, while smirking.

"What does that mean?" The blonde asked.

"Figure it out." Bakura retorted, then he slung an arm casually over Marik's shoulder. They continued random conversation until the bell rang. Then they both went to their separate classes. As Marik was walking, his smile somewhat faded. He gently brushed his fingers against the place that Bakura had touched him. He already missed the contact. This was getting bad.

Marik was beyond attached.

\--------

Marik had a problem. He really didn't want to go home, but he knew he had to sleep somewhere. The problem was finding a place. He could stay at each of his friends houses for maybe one night per person. But then what would he do? What about when he ran out of friends? The Egyptian was currently walking to a fast food place with Bakura for lunch. Normally neither of them left the school during that time, but they felt like it today. And so they did. The Brit had his arm draped casually over his friend's shoulder once again.

"You seem troubled." Bakura stated.

"I'm just thinking about stuff." Marik responded.

"About what exactly?" The whitette questioned. Marik thought for a moment.

"I need a place to stay for a little while." He instantly hated himself, because he was being weak. He was implying that he needed help; that he couldn't handle things on his own. Bakura didn't seem to see it that way though.

"You could probably stay at my place. My parents wouldn't care, and we've had an extra room for awhile now." He said, smiling slightly. Marik thought about it. He really didn't want to burden his friend...but he really didn't want to go home either. He found the internal battle difficult.

"I'll need to think about it..." The Egyptian mumbled. Bakura nodded slightly. In a matter of minutes they'd made it to the restaurant.  
Both of them lounged carelessly around the counter while deciding what to order.

"What're you having?" Marik asked, curious.

"Uhm probably like a burger of some kind." Bakura responded, his voice trailing off while he was deep in thought.

"I think I just want like fries." The Egyptian muttered. He didn't think he could handle any food at all if he was being honest. His stomach had been hurting constantly since the little fight between him and his father...if you could even consider it a fight. On top of that, his left ear was now screeching non-stop. Although it was tiny screech, barely noticeable once you adjusted.

The problem was that his right ear had become dead silent. He heard absolutely no noise from that side. The worst was when his left ear started to screech intensely loud for a short period of time. At that point, he could barely hear anything at all, only muffled sounds in the distance. Bakura grabbed Marik's wrist, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Whaa.." The Egyptian began to question.

"I got your fries for you, so we can go sit down now." The Brit responded.

"Oh..you didn't have to do that. Here, I'll pay you back." The Egyptian said as he started to dig through his pockets for some cash.

"No need." Bakura said, then chauffeured Marik to a good booth. The Egyptian decided to let it slide, just this once. They settled for a table near the window. The two friends sat across from each other, face to face. They had just about finished their food when Bakura began to talk.

"Marik, you'd say we're pretty comfortable around each other right? I mean we've been good friends for like a year now." He said. It came out of nowhere. (Marik had been distracted by his food, his stomach protested with every small bite)

"Yeah I'd say so." The Egyptian agreed, not really thinking about where this could be heading. He put down his fry, just because he didn't want to eat any more. A few moments of silence passed, leaving Marik to his thoughts. Then Bakura got this odd expression on his face.

"I like you." He finally stated. Marik frowned In confusion.

"I like you too, why else would we be friends?" Was his innocent response. Bakura sat there for a minute, dumbstruck by his friend's interpretation of the situation. But he decided to just leave it be.

"Right." Bakura said, laughing slightly while smirking. After a few minutes of observing his friend, Marik spoke.

"You're acting weird." He pointed out. Bakura just laughed it off. When they finished eating, Bakura dragged Marik out of the place. They walked back to school together. Once again the whitette's arm found it's way to Marik...Although this time it was planted around the Egyptian's waist. The blonde wasn't too sure how he felt about that, but he let it slide.

They barely made it back to school in time for the bell signaling the end of lunch. Both went to their appropriate classes. Marik couldn't help but think about moving to Bakura's house. It sounded pretty appealing to him. After a long amount of thought, he decided to try going back home tonight. He figured that if that didn't work out, he could always just go to the Brit's house. And so Marik went home.

That wasn't the smartest idea he'd ever come up with.

He walked in through the front door, and quickly looked around. After about 5 seconds, he'd deemed his surroundings safe. He sighed as he thumped into his room and plopped onto his bed. Everything still hurt. And he was having a screeching episode at the moment. He couldn't really hear anything happening in the real world. That was why Marik didn't notice his father approaching, or entering his bedroom. In fact, he only noticed the man's presence when he was punched straight in the face.

Next time he couldn't hear well, he would keep his eyes wide open.

Marik instantly snapped to a sitting position as a reaction. That wasn't the end of it, though.

When was it ever?

His father pulled him violently up to a standing position. Then he forcefully shoved him face first into the tile floor. He stomped on Marik's back again, then kicked his rib. Marik almost thought his father was sober because of how easily he was re-tracing the old bruises. It was as if the man was searching for them. Marik could only feel the yelp's of pain leaving his lips, and the vibrations of the screaming man before him.

For his left ear was still screeching.

His father quickly shoved him facedown into the floor, as if purposely attacking the broken nose. Then he did something even Marik didn't expect. He lifted his son into mid-air, and smacked the back of his head down onto the tile. It all happened in the blink of an eye.

Then there was blood everywhere and all faded away into nothingness.

Marik's eyes barely opened the next day. It all felt like a blur to him. He somehow managed to drag his beaten self to the nearest hospital. Currently, somebody was flashing a bright light at him. The Egyptian guessed he'd been given some kind of pain killers because almost his whole body felt numb. He looked around him, trying to figure out why something felt off. He could see the doctor's mouth moving, but no sound seemed to exit. Everything felt hazy, and he almost thought he was dreaming. Marik could find no familiar faces at all, and he struggled to remember what happened the night before to land him here. Everything just felt so weird.

That was when a white-haired teen had run at full speed into the hospital room.

"Marik! Are you ok? I got a call from your cell phone, a doctor was saying something about me being emergency contact. What happened?" He screamed.

The whitette was examining the Egyptian with worry. However Marik couldn't seem to match a face to a name. He felt like he remembered this person standing before him. He also wondered why this person's mouth was moving, but no sound was escaping. It really sucked that Marik had never learned to read lips. It would have come in handy when dealing with a prank such as this... That was when his mind finally caught up to the situation.

Marik had gone completely deaf.

\--------

The only thing Marik remembered from the hospital was being told he was going into surgery.

Bakura explained everything that had happened to him over the period of a few months:

He was rushed into the hospital with a major injury to the lower back part of his head. Someone had bashed it in (his father) and it fractured. Marik was severely lucky that none of the fractured pieces were entrapped in his brain tissue. Apparently though, he had needed lots and lots of therapy. You see, located in the lower back section of your brain is the Occipital Lobe. This part of Marik's brain was partially damaged. When this happens, your distortions of the visual field, and your perception of size, color, and shape are affected. This explained why everything that Marik did remember from the hospital was off or blurry. He still didn't have as good vision as he did before the incident.

Though there was a separate reason that Marik hadn't been able to recognize any faces while being hospitalized. It was because he was in so much pain that it hurt him to think. You'd also be in pain if you'd suffered through a major head injury. In the time of a few months, the doctors did not just repair Marik's head.

They also discovered that he was deaf. Now the doctors had no way to fix this, for the deafness wasn't caused by any disease. The loss of hearing was a result of multiple blows to the head over a long period of time. Marik refused to tell the hospital that his father was the cause for this. He just claimed that he had had a lot of blackouts, and he must've hit his head a lot during those times. That's what Bakura said he told them anyways. He didn't remember that either.

There was one small solution to Marik's deafness. He received a hearing aid. And although it wasn't a drastic help, it still helped a bit. Instead of complete lack of sound, Marik could make out loud noises. He could also somewhat make out his own voice if he really wanted to hear it. And sometimes if someone was talking really close to his ear, he could hear them as if from a distance. He still learned how to read lips though, and he also learned basic sign language.

Bakura attempted to learn basic sign language, but he was no good at it. So he just decided to talk more slowly until his friend had less trouble with reading lips.

Currently, Marik was relaxing in the living room of his friend's house. They now lived together, and Marik just had to accept it. He had to accept the fact that he needed more than two legs to stand on.

"Are you ok?" Bakura mouthed to the Egyptian. He'd been asking that a lot lately. Marik simply nodded.

"I'm gonna make popcorn." The whitette mouthed.

Bakura went into the kitchen and shoved a bag of popcorn into the microwave. In a matter of minutes, the snack was popped. The whitette reached for a bowl from the cabinet to his left, and poured the snack into it. He shuffled back into the living room and sat next to his now-mute friend.

That's right, Marik didn't talk at all anymore. He had tried a bit right when he left the hospital, and sometimes he would yell, just because he wanted to know if he could hear himself. But otherwise, he didn't find it necessary to talk. It was too much of a pain to try and make himself sound normal.

Bakura sat right next to the Egyptian, decently close. He wove an arm around Marik's waist, and set the bowl of popcorn on both of their laps. Marik was deeply focused on the captions on the screen before him. They were watching some horror movie that Bakura loved. As a little girl was getting butchered on screen, Marik popped a piece of the snack food in his mouth. He smiled as he felt the kernel crunch between his teeth. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he leaned his head on his friends shoulder. He could almost feel the smirk on Bakura's face.

"I think we should talk." Bakura said, really close to Marik's ear.

The Egyptian could barely hear it. Marik turned to look at him, showing that he was paying attention. He swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. What if Bakura was angry at him for something? But instead of saying anything, Bakura slowly started to lean forward. He gently began to kiss Marik. There was no reaction from the Egyptian. He was completely still, even after Bakura pulled away. The whitette frowned.

"What's the matter?" He mouthed.

But Marik wasn't paying any attention. He was too busy dwelling on the emotion he'd just felt. It was indescribable. It was addicting...He needed more. In a split second, Marik had leaned forward and kissed Bakura back. But the Egyptian was being much more forceful, his kiss was filled with longing. He forced his tongue into his companion's mouth. Before they knew it, they were full fledge making out. After a minute more, they had to part for air. In between puffs of breath, Bakura mouthed "I want us to be together, Marik." The Egyptian was kind of stunned. All he could do was nod, his way of saying 'me too'

After they finished the movie, leaning on each other the whole time, Marik went up to what was now his room. He examined his surroundings once more. His room wasn't large, but it wasn't small either. There was a nice twin bed in the center, and a dresser to the right. That was the only furniture, and that was all he really needed. He wasn't a greedy person. Which is why every time he walked into his room, waves of gratitude consumed him. He couldn't thank Bakura enough. He had a place to stay without his monster of a father. And now Marik didn't have constant reminder of the accident. The longer he was separated from those memories, the less anxiety he felt. With a slight smile, Marik fell into bed. He tossed and turned for a little bit as his mind still wide awake. But eventually his physical exhaustion took over, and he fell asleep.

Marik walked with Bakura to school the next day. The whitette wasn't really talking, so Marik knew something was wrong. He'd tried to ask what was up by talking. At first he thought he wasn't talking loud enough. But when he tried asking Bakura again, and a stranger from pretty far away stared at him, he knew the volume he was using was fine.

So why was Bakura ignoring him? Marik stared at the ground. He knew it was stupid to get attached to someone. He was just going to end up hurt.

Why in the world did he think he deserved love?

It made no sense though, just the previous night, Bakura had kissed him. And now he wasn't touching nor talking to Marik. The Egyptian finally noticed how far away his companion was standing. He began to panic. Had he done something wrong?

After awhile, they made it to school. At first, some lost part of Marik thought Bakura would stay with him. But the whitette ditched Marik to go hang with his group of friends. And so Marik was stuck with his own group of friends. They interrogated him, but Marik didn't catch all of the things they were asking. So while they thought he could hear them, he dug through his bag and found a paper and pen.

He wrote: I'm deaf now because I got hurt really badly. Yes, that's why I've been absent for a few months.

His friends' reactions were priceless. Yugi's jaw dropped, and everyone else followed suit. They began to write things on the paper in response.

Things like: "So you'll never hear again?"

"Who hurt you to the point of deafness?"

"Are you being transferred to special classes?"

Marik answered a few of them, but the bell soon rang. He only knew it did because everybody started to scatter to class. He didn't though. He stayed in the hallway until everybody was gone.

And once all of his friend's were gone, he had no distraction. The pain set in. Bakura was ignoring him. The one person he'd actually cared about was ignoring him. Marik could only think of how stupid and naïve he'd been. He ran off to the bathroom, feeling suddenly sick to his stomach. He threw up the contents of his breakfast.

It was the first real sized breakfast he'd eaten in a long time.

Then he collapsed into himself, hugging his knees to his chest. For the first time since the accident Marik cried because of emotional pain.

\--------

Marik never went back to class. He simply couldn't bring himself to. He knew he'd have to face Bakura if he did. Instead he ditched school in favor of wandering. In the midst of it, he'd started to think. He pitied himself for needing the help of others. He hated that he cried. He kept telling himself over and over again

"Crying equals weakness."

So why did he allow it to happen? He was so pathetic. That was why, on a whim, he headed back to Bakura's place. He couldn't allow himself to live there anymore. He had pride. He used his key to let himself inside, and sulked into his room. He shuffled across the carpeting he'd come to love so much. It was also pathetic how attached he'd become in a mere day. But he gathered all of his items and stuffed them into his bag again. Marik paused a minute to think. Bakura might actually wonder where he'd gone. And he certainly didn't want to worry the whitette's parents. He found a pen and paper and wrote

'I'm leaving now. I think I can be on my own. Thanks for everything. From Marik' He left the note on the living room table. Then he sulked out the door.

Only when he stood outside in the cool breeze did reality hit him. He had nowhere else to go. He could turn back...or he could go home.

He deserved it.

He deserved to go home.

With a heavy heart, Marik headed to his old home. He could only imagine what his father would do to him when he arrived. He made it to the front step and turned the doorknob. Oddly enough, it wasn't locked. He stepped inside and almost threw up at the smell of stale beer and other things. He waded through the broken glass on the floor and headed into his old room. He walked in and gasped.

His room was completely trashed. There were papers scattered everywhere, furniture was overturned. And his one mirror was shattered. He tried so hard to fight back tears, but it didn't work. Everything he loved; everyone he loved got ruined. He collapsed into the mess, sobs racking his whole body. His bag fell off of his shoulder.

Once again, his deafness proved to be his weakness.

In the midst of crying, he felt a smack upside the back of his head. He yelped in surprise. He turned and was face to face with his father again. Though surprisingly, the man didn't reach out to hit him again. Marik wasn't stupid enough to let his guard down though. He did take the chance to look over the man he once cared for (long long ago).

His father was totally drunk, more than usual. He was staggering everywhere, and the way his lips moved made it clear he was slurring immensely. There was also vomit on his shirt. Marik's face scrunched up in disgust. But he quickly retreated to a blank expression. Something about getting out of this house and going deaf had made him actually feel. And he dreaded every minute of it. Because if you felt, you weren't numb. You we're either happy or sad; excited or disappointed; ecstatic or agonizing. Marik couldn't get a hold of himself. But that wasn't something to dwell on now.

Now he had to figure out what his father was saying to him. It was so damn hard with all the slurring. He could barely make out a few words. "Clean." and "Dumb." were two of them. After a few smacks, and a few repeats, Marik finally understood his father's statement. He was told to clean up the mess 'he'd' made in his room, clean up the mess in the living room, and make dinner. Marik breathed a sigh of relief as his father left the room. It could have been so much worse, in fact Marik had it so easy. He only had to clean. His whole life, cleaning had been so easy. He got right to it. In about 6 hours, he was completely done. His father had eaten, and Marik had even cleaned up the little mess after that.

So basically he was reverting to his position of slave.

But all calmed down as his father passed out in his own room. Marik could actually relax. He took the time to check his email (from his phone) and was stunned to find one from Bakura. As he scrolled through history, he also noticed a large number of texts from the whitette. They all said similar things.

First, they were calm and confused:

"Why did you leave?"

"Where are you?"

"What happened?"

Then they were a bit more annoyed and they came in faster:

"Marik where the hell are you?"

"Why don't you come back home?"

"Why did you go when you finally got settled?"

And lastly, they were demanding.

"Get your ass back here now."

"You worried my parents you jackass, come the fuck home."

"Get back here or ill find your address and personally drag you back here."

Marik laughed a bit at the irony. His friend was purely ignoring him earlier, and now he was begging to have him back. Marik suddenly got another text from Bakura.

"Seriously Marik you're worrying me. Where have you gone?" Begrudgingly the Egyptian replied.

"I'm at my actual home with my dad." He was quite reluctant to use the word 'dad.' He hadn't called his father by that title for a very long time. Not since mom was alive. He almost lost himself in thought, but was distracted as soon as he received a text in response.

"I'm coming over there." Was the simple reply. Marik laughed a bit. Bakura surely didn't know where he lived. Besides, it was like midnight already. There was no way the whitette would venture into a neighborhood like this that late at night.

Although, true to Bakura's word there was knock at the door in a half an hour. However Marik couldn't hear it. Bakura realized this soon enough, and texted his boyfriend.

"I'm outside your house right now. Get out here." Was what it said.

Marik saw the text and was stunned. He hopped off of his bed, and walked to the front door. He pulled it slowly open and was baffled to see the whitette standing on his front porch. However, before there was any chance for Marik to react, he was captured in a hug. Bakura pulled back after a few seconds. He started at his expressionless companion.

"You asshole, you had me fucking worried. You really think I'm stupid, don't you?" He mouthed. Marik's face crunched in confusion.

"I don't think you're stupid." He mouthed in response.

"Yes you do." Bakura replied. Marik was thinking real hard.

"Why would you think that I think that?" He mouthed, confused.

"Because I know who used to give you so many bruises." The whitette replied, perfectly serious.

"I don't believe you." Marik stated, using his actual voice. Though, just having this conversation was leaving him feeling particularly drained. Having a full on conversation was very difficult. He normally only said a few words.

"Your father gave them to you. That's why I won't allow you to live in this hell-hole anymore." Bakura mouthed back. Anger and hurt suddenly flared in the Egyptian.

"Why in the world would you care? This morning you wouldn't even look at me!" Marik actually yelled back. Bakura seemed to react to something and pulled Marik into the bushes. If the Egyptian could hear, he would've heard his father thrashing around the house a bit in reaction to noise, then quieting down again. But he didn't, so he was thoroughly confused. He waited patiently for Bakura to let him go. They both stood up. Marik still needed an explanation.

"Your father made some noise." The whitette explained. Marik nodded, irritated. He had thought the stupid man was asleep.

"And I wasn't ignoring you or anything. I just thought you were mad at me, so I figured I shouldn't talk to you either." The whitette said.

Marik's jaw dropped in realization. He had acted kind of weird after their kiss! It all made sense. Suddenly he leaned up to kiss Bakura. He moved his lips against Bakura's in a torturously slow matter. The whitette melted into the feel of it. They stood, their bodies forming to fit each other, for a long time. Then Bakura flinched away from Marik. Marik frowned in response, but soon understood the situation as he was shoved to the ground abruptly. He tilted his head back to see his father yelling

"Faggot! My son is a faggot!" It was surprising that the Egyptian could even make out the words. Before he had time to react, Bakura shoved his father down and stepped on the man's stomach so that he couldn't move. Then Bakura yanked Marik up off the ground and mouthed

"Go grab your bag and run to my house now."

Marik quickly obeyed.

In just a few minutes, he'd run back to Bakura's place. And soon enough his friend caught up to him. Once again, Marik was engulfed in a bear hug. He hadn't even realized the tears that streaked down his face until he got Bakura's shirt wet. The Egyptian choked a bit as the panic resided. Although panic was replaced with painfully familiar ache. Once again, he'd needed Bakura. The whitette seemed to sense his companion's reluctance and pulled away so that he could make out The Eygptian's features. Well, try to make out Marik's features, as it was pitch black outside.

"What's the matter?" Bakura whispered, stroking Marik's cheek lovingly. Marik seemed to choke again, but finally gathered himself.

"I don't want to rely on you." He muttered, ashamed. Bakura frowned and leaned in ever closer to the other.

"I want you to rely on me." He replied. Marik bitterly laughed. Nobody would ever get it. He pulled away slightly, but forced a smile. He lightly kissed Bakura and then went inside. He trudged up to his 'room' and fell onto the bed.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe. Everything took such a toll on him.

He sighed, but something still didn't feel right. His mind just wouldn't shut down. With a heavy heart, he dug through his bag and found an old friend of his. A small knife. He took a slow breath, and looked up at the doorknob for reassurance. Surely enough, It was locked. Then, Marik lifted up his shirt and dragged the blade slowly across his flesh. At first, he wanted to stop.

His brain was screaming in protest.

But it just felt so good. And he knew that the more cuts he made, the less emotional he would feel. His prediction was right on, as after about 5 more cuts, he could finally relax. It was like something in him had snapped, and he couldn't feel emotions anymore. Quickly, he wiped the blade on the inside of his shirt. Then he stuffed it back where it belonged, in the bottom of his bag. Some part of him deep down felt guilty, for he'd reverted back to one of his old habits. But all other parts of him screamed in appreciation.

Agony faded as comfortable numbness returned. Marik leaned back onto the soft pillow and closed his eyes. It was only a few minutes before he fell calmly asleep.

\--------

Marik awoke to a dull pain in his chest. He growled slightly. That was the stupid thing about cutting. It only numbed your brain for a short period. He tossed and turned a bit, as he didn't want to get up. Marik temporarily drifted back to sleep. Unfortunately, he had to wake up, for his stomach was now causing him pain. He rolled out of bed and fell directly onto the carpeting. All he did was grunt, then drag himself to a standing position. The Egyptian shuffled into the kitchen to raid the fridge. He found like a cheese stick or something and shoved it into his mouth.

Only after he'd swallowed the last bite, did he realize why something felt off. The main reason was that he normally ate nothing for breakfast, and ate a miniscule lunch. So, right now, his stomach really didn't like the food. Before deciding to do anything, his feet were moving in the direction of the bathroom. This had become pure habit when he mistakenly ate at the wrong time. Soon enough, the contents of his breakfast were in the toilet bowl. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gathered his breath. Slowly, he reached out and flushed the vomit down. It was so very tiring for him to get up even.

See Marik was a very conflicting person. He liked pain sometimes, but other times it was dreadful. For instance, when he father hurt him, there was something deep down causing Marik to hate it. But, when he was in control of his pain, he loved it. He loved the way it numbed his thoughts. But he would probably never admit that to anyone, not even Bakura. He smiled slightly at the internal mention of his companion's name, but quickly scolded himself. He couldn't get the constant nagging that he needed to rely on someone to vanish. It was always there, the feeling of helplessness.

He shrugged off those thoughts, and washed his face. The Egyptian shuffled back into the living room. He plopped down onto the couch, and got comfortable. The TV was on, but he had to search for the setting with subtitles. Of course, as soon as he got into the show, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and made eye contact with Bakura. Marik raised a brow questioningly.

"My parents suggested that you and I go out for breakfast with them." He informed. The blonde knew what that really meant: 'Get up even though it's Saturday so you can go be interrogated by my parents who are getting suspicious of our gayness'

He grunted, but forced himself to a standing position, trying to ignore the aching of his body. He thought he would collapse from the extra weight of his limbs. And he actually started to fall forward, but Bakura caught him gently.

"Are you alright?" The whitette asked carefully. Marik made a humming sound, so as to say "Sure."

He pushed himself to his feet, and away from his companion. The he scampered up the stairs and to his room. The Egyptian got dressed and made himself look presentable. Marik met Bakura in the car, and sat next to him. Though he was very careful to make sure there was no touching, for the whitette's parents were both sitting right there.

"Hi, Marik, how are you?" Bakura's mom began the conversation. Marik kept up his end, being very polite the whole ride. Sometimes, the Egyptian had to look over to Bakura for translation, since the whitette's parents had a tendency to talk quickly. But in a matter of minutes, they'd made it to the restaurant. It was a quite fancy one, and Marik was nervous. Especially since he knew it was still very early for him to be eating. And he knew he was going to have to eat in front of Bakura's parents. The Egyptian frowned worriedly.

Bakura caught this gesture, and when his parents weren't looking, mouthed "What's the matter?"

Marik was very hesitant to share his problem, but he did since he knew this breakfast was important to his boyfriend.

"If I eat this early, I'll probably throw up again." He replied.

He noticed how upset Bakura looked as he said 'again', but the whitette seemed to let it slide.

"Eat light, I'll tell them you're on a diet or something." He replied gently. This soothed some of Marik's worry. The breakfast went seemingly quickly after that. Bakura had convinced his parents of Marik's diet. They had assured the Egyptian that he needn't worry about his weight. Of course, the blonde just smiled and nodded along. He'd barely made it without throwing up.

After all the pointless chatter, they were driven home. Bakura's parents both went to work around 5pm, even though it was the weekend.

This left the house to Bakura and Marik. As soon as he got that chance, the whitette was kissing Marik. The Egyptian whimpered at the intensity, and melted into the feeling. Their lips fit together perfectly, their tongues colliding. As soon as they needed air, they separated. Whenever they kissed like that, Marik felt so tender and vulnerable. He was blushing and panting, just like his companion.

He couldn't stop himself from muttering "I think I love you." As his stomach twisted into knots.

Bakura looked stunned, but reciprocated. "I think I love you too." He murmured.

Marik smiled and pulled his boyfriend closer again. He gently placed his lips over the other's. He began to move them slowly and tenderly. It was so torturous that he heard the other whimper with want. The Egyptian pushed his tongue into the other's mouth and began to probe around. The battle for dominance began, as Bakura started to use his tongue too. Before he knew it, they were lying on top of each other and making out, though fully clothed. Marik felt as though his heart had melted, and he hadn't the slightest idea how. How was it that Bakura could get him to feel like this?

This loving, longing, lusting.

Before Marik had even decided to move, he shoved Bakura off of him. The Egyptian pulled back and covered his mouth with his hand, guilt setting in.

He loved someone! What was he thinking!?

Marik was beginning to panic.

He remembered what happened to the last person he loved; the last few people he loved! They were both gone now. They we're ripped away from him forever. What was he thinking?! Letting someone in, just to be doomed to the same fate? He couldn't risk losing another loved one. It hurt too much. It hurt too much!

Marik's thoughts were crashing into one other, and he didn't know what to do. He couldn't fully comprehend why he was panicking. Tears fell down his cheeks. He was rocking back and forth, head lowered guiltily.

Why would he do this to himself? How stupid was he?!

Just as he was about to plunge into the darkness again, he felt a strong hand on each of his shoulders. But he didn't look up, because he knew who they belonged to. He could feel the vibration of Bakura's voice, but he didn't look up. Instead he pushed the whitette off of him, and ran upstairs. He grabbed his bag again.

What was he thinking relying on someone? Loving someone? He couldn't handle another heartbreak. He couldn't. How stupid could someone get?

He turned to run down the stairs, but came tumbling down them instead. He felt one of his arms snap, and almost laughed. How did he manage to break another bone already? Although, as soon as he reached the bottom of the staircase, his good sense began to seep in. Reality struck him as panic resided. He bowed his head in shame, scolding himself for being so cruel to Bakura. This was why he didn't deserve love.

"I'm so sorry." He mumbled. He felt Bakura's arm wind around his shoulders. They turned to face each other.

"I'm so sorry." Marik repeated again. Bakura gently hushed him.

"It's ok." He replied, and began to pull the Eygptian into a hug. However, Marik carefully pushed him away. He took a deep breath.

"No it's not." He began, now mouthing words, since his voice was exhausted. He took a deep breath, gathered the nerve, and continued. "I can't do this anymore. I can't love you. I don't know I would ever say that I could. I'm only going to hurt you. I can't do this. I need to figure out who I am before I let someone else figure out who I am." His words were choppy and repetitive, but he'd said what needed to be said. He waited for Bakura's reaction. It surely wasn't what he expected.

"You could've just said so to begin with." The whitette said. Marik let out a relieved laugh.

"I'm sorry, for this, for the drama, for like pushing you and stuff." The Egyptian said.

Bakura nodded. "It's ok, you've dealt with a lot lately, I shouldn't have pushed you. So friends?" The whitette said. Marik nodded, smiling slightly. Although he couldn't help but notice the slight pain and rejection buried deep in his friend's eyes. He felt so horribly guilty. But he kept forcing a smile anyway. Bakura never had to know how he really felt. After a minute or so of joking around, Marik sulked up to his room.

He dropped his heavy bag on the shag carpeting and took a moment to examine his arm. It was broken, but he'd deal with it later. The Egyptian fell down onto his bed and let out a deep sigh. At first, he was content. It was comforting to know that he could keep his problems to himself from then on. Slowly, he shook off the guilt he was feeling after he'd hurt Bakura. He knew his friend would get over it.

But soon his thoughts began to wander elsewhere. They wandered all the way back the accident. He cringed, knowing what he was about to do. He couldn't just sit back and let himself think about that, after all. His body moved on it's own accord, reaching for his bag, rummaging around for the blade, making random incisions on his thighs. But after the process was finished, Marik was numb again. And he was oh so thankful for that. He'd had a very emotional day, and he just wanted to stop feeling.

If only he knew a more permanent solution for that.


End file.
